It’s easy to see why filmmakers are drawn to Roald Dahl’s work. He liked placing his stories in our world while adding something most definitely not from our world, with several of his stories coming with a new language. “The BFG” hits everything on the Dahl checklist, but it has trouble getting out of second gear. It’s sweet, it’s beautifully shot, and it sports another fine performance from Mark Rylance (who, last time he worked with “BFG” director Steven Spielberg, won an Oscar for his work in “Bridge of Spies”), but let’s point out the elephant in the room, shall we? Wes Anderson wrecked the curve for Roald Dahl adaptations with his stop-motion masterpiece “Fantastic Mr. Fox.” Following in that movie’s footsteps, even seven years later and multiple generations of technological advancement – something that is clearly prioritized here – “The BFG” didn’t have a prayer.

Sophie (Ruby Barnhill) lives in a London orphanage at a time that is at first undetermined, but we later learn is the early 1980s (Dahl’s book was released in 1982). She has trouble sleeping, and it is on a sleepless night that she sees a giant walking the streets. The giant (Rylance) sees that he’s been spotted and, out of concern that she will tell the authorities and make things difficult for him, he snatches Sophie and takes her to his home in a faraway land. Unlike the giants he lives with, he has no intentions of hurting her (the others love eating children, and would devour her on sight), and he even takes her as he goes to work catching dreams. The other giants are much larger and meaner than Sophie’s giant – whom she calls BFG after he remarked that he’d like to be known as the Big Friendly Giant – and they bully him relentlessly. Sophie encourages BFG to stand up for himself and comes up with a plan to put the giants in their place.

“The BFG” has an alarming number of lowbrow moments for a Spielberg film, particularly when it comes to bathroom humor. The toilet jokes equate to two scenes’ worth, but they go a long way. In hindsight, those scenes put the Fizzy Lifting Drink scene in “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” into context. For as next-level as Dahl’s work was, there was clearly a juvenile sensibility running through it all at the same time. Never is that more prevalent than it is here.

Spielberg seems to be approaching the visuals in a manner similar to how Peter Jackson approached the “Hobbit” films. In the scenes where the majority of characters were of the motion capture variety, he went for the tracking shot in order to earn style points. The first one is nice (Hide, Sophie, hide!), but the second one is better. Think of the final tracking shot in “Children of Men,” with giants, and you’re close. The shot with the cat (you’ll know it when you see it) is arguably the movie’s finest moment, and it’s a throwaway shot. The film could have used more of them.

Ruby Barnhill looks like Molly Ringwald just before entering middle school. This makes her likable to anyone who ever gave a damn about Molly Ringwald, but that goodwill turns to pity once you realize that Barnhill spent most of the movie interacting with people on cranes holding a giant X in front of a green screen. If she seems a bit inconsistent, it’s because this is her first film and her second acting credit, and the other acting credit definitely didn’t involve CGI. Rylance has no experience with motion capture either, but then again, he’s a master thespian, and not about to turn 12; experience was clearly on his side, and he delivers the goods.

The most impressive performance here comes from Penelope Wilton, who plays the Queen of England, and finds dignity even in the most undignified moments. Rebecca Hall is here as well, though she only has a handful of lines. Perhaps she was a fan of the book as a child. It came out the year she was born, after all.

Steven Spielberg has a laundry list of signature visual moments one could cull from his films, but what made his work so endearing to people were the stories he told. “The BFG” seems to have his priorities in reverse, where he’s all about making the most impressive motion capture film to date (he’s bragged about this to the press). And maybe he has made the best motion capture film to date, but who cares about that? There is a difference between game-changing visuals and ‘better than anyone has done to this point’ visuals, and “The BFG” is clearly in the latter category. It’s a perfectly pleasant movie, but it’s not unreasonable to expect more from Spielberg than something perfectly pleasant.

Judd Apatow’s films often cover heavy, emotionally complicated territory, but they’re ice cold at the same time. The subject matter is relatable, but the manner in which it’s treated bears little resemblance to real life. (The most egregious offender: “This Is 40.” Now let us never speak of it again.) “Trainwreck,” by comparison, is the most honest, heartfelt film Apatow has made to date, and it’s hard not to notice that it’s also the first time he directed a script that he didn’t have a hand in writing.

Some back story, for the unfamiliar: Apatow has taken heat over the years for underwriting his female roles – and yes, that criticism came largely from Katherine Heigl, who cashed some monster paychecks after receiving a massive career boost by appearing in his 2007 film “Knocked Up,” therefore people accuse her of biting the hand that fed her, and while that may be the case, she’s not wrong – and perhaps this was Apatow’s attempt to make amends, by directing a script written by a woman (Amy Schumer). The crazy thing is, Schumer’s character in many ways embodies the very traits that Heigl protested (reckless, irresponsible, unaccountable), but with the female character in the lead role, you get something that previous Apatow films never provided, and that is perspective: we get both the ‘what’ and the ‘why’ of her character’s behavior. Also, there are no shrews in this movie. Apatow’s other movies were loaded with shrews. Who likes shrews that much?

Amy Townsend (Schumer) writes for S’Nuff, a Gawker-esque magazine with roughly 75% less humanity. She also parties nonstop and sleeps around, even though she has a boyfriend (John Cena). A fellow writer pitches an article about Aaron Conners (Bill Hader), a surgeon who’s come up with a revolutionary knee procedure that will greatly reduce recovery time for athletes. S’Nuff editor Dianna (Tilda Swinton, in full Anna Wintour mode) likes the story, but assigns it to Amy, because Amy has admitted that she hates sports, and Dianna likes the idea of the paradox. Amy surprisingly finds herself fascinated with both Aaron and his work, and when she unprofessionally consummates their professional arrangement, she does unthinkable things, like actually agreeing to spend the night at his place and generally being less afraid of commitment. Amy is confused by this new change to the game plan, and she responds to it the only way she knows how: self-destruction.

The story, at its core, is a simple one. A broken girl lives a broken (but fun) life, girl sees opportunity to leave the drama behind, but a lifetime of bad habits threatens everything. Within that simple story are four relationship narratives: Amy and Aaron, Amy and her ailing father Gordon (a well-cast Colin Quinn), Amy and her resentful younger sister Kim (Brie Larson), and Amy and her boss Dianna. Each relationship could explode at any minute, but for different reasons, and in every instance, Amy is fighting a battle that the other people in her life know next to nothing about. Comedy pedigree be damned, Schumer flexes serious dramatic writing chops here.

Unfortunately, she also falls victim to the ‘underwrite the love interest’ trap. Hader’s Aaron is a perfectly nice, likable guy (his scene playing one-on-one basketball with LeBron James is a stone-cold classic), but he’s not terribly interesting, generous to a fault, and definitely not the kind of guy that Amy would be drawn to. That’s the point, of course, but there isn’t enough in his character to seal the deal, at least with a girl like Amy, for whom hanging out with superstar athletes means nothing. Schumer also stages a scene late in the movie that makes zero sense. The manner in which they set up the scene is a cheat, because it prevents us from getting the whole picture, presumably to make the subsequent, ridiculous events easier to sell. However, Amy has a good idea of what is going on, and she of all people would know not to go there.

There is also the matter of the cameo parade, which is taken to ridiculous extremes. LeBron is hilarious as himself, and there is a wonderfully pretentious movie within the movie, but the other celebrity cameos either lack the comedic timing (Amar’e Stoudemire) or necessity (the intervention) to justify inclusion. Worse, they don’t even feel like Schumer’s ideas, but rather something that Apatow thought of on the fly, and shoehorned into the film.

Fortunately, Schumer sticks the landing with a sweet and funny finale that is both self-deprecating and self-affirming, which is by no means easy to do. Indeed, Schumer’s immense likability makes even the unwatchable stuff entertaining on one level or another. “Trainwreck” is not perfect, but it’s perfect for Apatow. He needed this movie, arguably more than the movie needed him.

“Inside Out” has a sweet, entertaining story at its core, but it requires one of the characters to act like a complete idiot in order to set it into motion, and no matter how enjoyable the rest of the movie may be – and thankfully, it is – those acts will linger in the back of your mind, which, come to think of it, the filmmakers might find ironically funny. It’s not, though; it’s a shortcut, the kind of thing Pixar steadfastly avoided in their storytelling for well over a decade, and now that they have been getting their asses kicked by their peers at Disney Animation (“Frozen,” “Wreck-It Ralph,” “Big Hero 6”) for the last three years, you’d think that they would come up with a better story than this. And to be fair, they came up with a good concept; it just has a bad setup.

As Riley Anderson (Kaitlyn Dias) is born, we see her emotions being “born,” as it were, in her head. The first two, as one might imagine, are Joy (Amy Poehler) and Sadness (Phyllis Smith), but they are soon joined by Fear (Bill Hader), Anger (Lewis Black, in the part he was born to play), and Disgust (Mindy Kaling). Most of the time, Joy is in charge of Riley’s emotions because Riley lives a charmed life, but when Riley’s father moves the family from Minnesota to San Francisco for a work opportunity, Riley’s emotions are all out of whack, a problem that is worsened when Sadness continues to taint core memories so that they turn from happy ones to sad ones in Riley’s mind. In her attempt to stop this from happening, Joy tries to take control of the situation, but in the process, she and Sadness accidentally get transferred to Riley’s long-term memory and far away from the control panel, leaving Fear, Anger and Disgust in charge. Riley becomes an emotional wreck, and the longer Joy is away, the worse things get.

So now you know what the problem is: Sadness. She starts ruining perfectly good memories by touching them, and even after she learns what the consequences are when she does that, she does it again and again. The five emotions are voiced by adults and almost always act like adults, but for the sake of getting the story to the next level, they decide to make Sadness start acting like a cat, which, damn it, is something else the filmmakers might find ironically funny. Once again, it’s not, though.

Once the story gets past its “For God’s sake, would you please stop doing the stupid thing?” setup, it becomes wildly creative, and drops a fair amount of science in the process in terms of how the brain stores information. The movie delves into how important information is often lost because it isn’t retrieved often enough, it emphasizes the importance of an active imagination, but the best part is when Joy and Sadness experience the abstract thinking part of the brain. That sequence is one of the most brilliant things Pixar has ever done.

The one thing the movie absolutely nails is the landing, which stresses the importance of being in touch with all of your emotions for the sake of mental health. (And definitely stay for the credits, as they offer amusing insight into the minds of people, and non-people, outside of Riley’s family.) Everyone wants to always be joyful, but that simply isn’t the case in life; there will be times when it’s all right to be scared, or angry, or sad, and people should embrace those moments, rather than deny them. That’s an important message for people of all ages, but particularly tween kids like Riley.

The ads for “Inside Out” are calling it the best Pixar film since “Up,” which is coincidentally the last Pixar film directed by the same man who directed “Inside Out” (Pete Docter). That might be the reason people are saying that, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s the best Pixar film since “Toy Story 3,” which is a really nice way of saying that it’s a two-run double in the corner from a studio that, until recently, had hit nothing but home runs. It’s good, often great, but Pixar has shown us that they can do better.

There are lots of individual things to like about “The To-Do List.” Aubrey Plaza delivers a fearless performance as the curious virgin, her supporting cast delivers laughs by the pound, and the movie has a coming-of-age vibe to it that was unexpected but most welcome. (You would think that the themes of first-time sex and coming of age would cross paths often, but they really don’t.) For everything it does well, though, it could have done it better. It’s funny, but could have been funnier. It’s clever, but botches golden opportunities to deliver a memorable, poignant one-liner. It works in fits and starts, but there always seems to be something that derails its momentum.

It is June 1993, and Brandy Klark (Plaza) has just graduated from high school. She is class valedictorian, fond of correcting her friends’ grammar, and the most inexperienced virgin on the planet. After a drunken, mistaken-identity encounter with mysterious college-age hunk Rusty Waters (Scott Porter), Brandy decides that before she heads off to college, she needs to know how to handle herself when it comes to sex, the ultimate goal being losing her virginity to the out-of-her-league Rusty. As she gains experience, though, she loses perspective on how her actions affect those around her, particularly her longtime adoring lab partner Cameron (Johnny Simmons).

It’s a bit jarring how unsexy this sex comedy is, but that’s also the point. This isn’t sexual discovery for Brandy: it’s research, and she treats her subjects with the cold, clinical tone a scientist would give a focus group. This, of course, gets her into trouble when her subjects become attached (ahem, Cameron), but it’s in character, which leaves the viewer in the odd position of faulting a movie for being too realistic. Sure, Brandy’s actions make logical sense, but they’d be a lot more interesting if she were just a bit more emotionally invested in the experience, even if it meant that she makes a completely different set of mistakes in the process.

Give Plaza credit, then, for finding the humanity in an emotionally distant character, and making her funny without making her the fool, even when she’s being laughed at (or worse, and she does something much, much worse). As good of a job as she does, though, Bill Hader and Clark Gregg steal every single scene they’re in (fortunately, they’re only in one scene together, and that one’s a tie) as Brandy’s slacker boss and overprotective father, respectively. Even Rachel Bilson earns some laughs as Brandy’s bitchy, slutty older sister Amber, though her character could have used some depth. The script, written and directed by Hader’s wife Maggie Carey, is clearly the work of someone who lived through the period, which would explain the spot-on soundtrack choices and the Andy Samberg-fronted, spectacularly mediocre grunge band.

For the first few years of their existence, CBS Films played it ridiculously safe, making movies like “Faster” and “The Back-Up Plan,” movies that no one will ever watch more than once (unless they’re being tortured). That they had the guts to make “The To-Do List,” even if it doesn’t always work, is a good sign that they’re trying to change their ways. The fact that they ran a trailer for a CBS Films movie made by the Coen Brothers beforehand is equally encouraging. They’re not quite in the position of scaring artist-friendly studios like Fox Searchlight, but it’s a step in the right direction.